A Fourth Church Sermon by John W. Vest

April 11, 2009 | Easter Vigil

Change

John W. Vest
Associate Pastor, Fourth Presbyterian Church

Psalm 114
Romans 6:3–11
Matthew 28:1–10

Some of you know that I’m something of a comic book geek. I’ve been into superheroes my entire life. I remember pretending I was the Incredible Hulk when I was a little kid—or perhaps I should say a not-so-little kid. I remember Superman and Spider-Man birthday cakes. I remember early trips to comic book shops. I remember waking up at the crack of dawn on Saturday mornings, when everyone else was still sleeping, to watch cartoons of my favorite heroes.

So I was pleased earlier this year to discover that someone finally opened up a comic book shop in our Hyde Park neighborhood. For the past month now, I’ve gone down there on my day off with my newborn son, Noah. When I returned home with a sizeable stack of books after my first visit, I tried to convince my wife that these are really for our son, an investment in his future. I think the best I got out of that was her feeling a little less guilty about the new clothes she bought that week.

In any event, for the past month I’ve been spending a lot of time re-immersing myself into these modern myths of our culture. Each night before I go to bed I read about the exploits of Superman, Batman, or the Hulk. Sometimes, when our son wakes us up to be changed and fed in the middle of the night, I’ll read a little more before I go back to sleep.

Without getting too philosophical about how my worldview has been influenced by these archetypal myths of good versus evil, I can at least say that these stories have shaped my life in some significant ways. But I’m not sure I can say that they’ve changed my life.

This week I had an interesting conversation with my friend and colleague Kurt Esslinger about what we consider to be the seminal television shows of our youth. The question came up because Kurt’s fiancé, a native of Korea, had asked him once to share with her some of the shows that shaped our culture. While Kurt and I became fixated on Star Trek: The Next Generation, our other friend and colleague JC Cadwallader reminded us that there were other shows that truly defined our generation with a broader appeal than Star Trek ever had, programs like The Cosby Show or Family Ties or even shows like Full House or Saved by the Bell. I’m sure all of us here could spend the rest of the night coming up with culturally significant television shows, an endeavor that would be all the more interesting since we have at least three or four generations represented here tonight. But once again, I think we can agree that while these shows may have shaped our lives, I don’t think we can say they’ve changed our lives.

The one current television show that I find truly compelling is the mysterious drama Lost. In fact, it has become a weekly ritual for me and JC to debrief each new episode and talk about our theories and unanswered questions. The episode this past week, called “Dead Is Dead,” was an interesting one to air during Holy Week. One of the themes was the apparent resurrection of one of the main characters. When questioned about this, the character that seems to know the most about the mysteries of the island on which the series is based was genuinely surprised and perhaps a little scared at this miraculous happening. “Dead is dead,” he says. “You don’t get to come back from that.” And earlier, when he is first confronted by the resurrected man, he says, “It’s one thing to believe it; it’s another thing to see it.”

As a pastor and a theologian, I find this pretty intriguing pop culture to be consumed by the masses only a few days before our celebration of Easter. Not only this, I find the entire series of Lost to be a deeply theological and philosophical exploration of important questions of ultimate concern. And given my sometimes obsessive compulsion to watch new episodes and read about them online and talk about them with my friends and convince people they need to watch this series too, I think I can say that Lost has shaped my life in some way. But it hasn’t changed my life.

Some stories shape us, but not all stories change us.

But this story, this story that we have heard tonight, this story that spans time from creation to the cross to this very moment here together, this story has changed my life. This story has given my life meaning. This story has helped me name the mysterious presence of divinity that I feel around me, as well as the profound estrangement and emptiness that I feel deep inside. This story has brought me back from the point of narcissistic self-destruction and has shown me a new way of selfless service and sacrifice. This story has shown me how abundantly and unconditionally I am loved. And it compels me to try to love others just as much. This story has changed my life.

I think this is probably true for many of us here tonight. It’s important enough that we’ve come out on a cold Chicago night to gather in vigil and listen to this story as we await the most glorious mysteries of Easter morning. We listen to this story as if it is our own, because it is.

Yet perhaps there are some of us who don’t quite feel that yet. Perhaps you find this story compelling, perhaps it has even shaped some significant parts of your life, but you don’t feel changed. Maybe you’ve even come here this night looking for a change. My friends, I hope you’ve found it. And if not, keep on looking.

And gathered with us this night are young people who have come here seeking confirmation. They have come here to profess their faith, to claim this story as their own. To you, my dear friends of Fourth Church Rising, I want you to know this: this change is what we have tried to share with you this year. We’ve given you seven months of our lives because this story has changed our lives, and we want you to feel that too. Confirmation isn’t a social event that you do because everyone else is doing it. It isn’t a rite of passage for the sake of having a rite of passage. This night isn’t about going through the motions of some ancient ritual. This night is about stepping into that story and letting it change you. You may not understand it all. You may not believe it all. But through this story, God is calling you. And God will change you.

God changed Adam, giving him life and a partner.

God changed Noah, saving him and his family from destruction.

God changed Abraham and Sarah, leading them to a new home.

God changed Abraham and Isaac, guiding them on a journey they could barely understand.

God changed the Hebrews, freeing them from the bondage of slavery.

God changed the exiled Jews, offering them hope and restoring their lives.

God changed the followers of Jesus, showing them a new way of serving God and each other.

God changed Jesus, delivering him from death to new life.

God has changed us. God has given us new life. God has set us free. God has shown us how to love and help give new life to others.

God has changed us. And God will change us still.

Thanks be to God.

Amen.